The feeling of my skin,
Like the tension of
A tightly coil'd spring.
Pressing through surface thin,
Bursting through to
Fracture this bitter thing.
Voiceless sounds
Escaping the swallowed fire,
that now, burns throughout.
Heat in every cell abounds,
Match-like nerves beneath,
Beguil'd, an inferno pulse about.
Lead me to cooler climes,
Soothe the Surtric disposition,
Tell me stories, or sing me song,
To heark'n lighter times;
Mayhap ample succor therein be,
Ere soul consum'd by fiery throng.
YOU ARE READING
Blank Spaces
PoetryAn emotive journey through the empty places we visit but never want to see. The pain, the heartbreak, trying to see hope in places there may be none. And the secrets, and yes there are always secrets. Can you see them in this dark empty space? So it...
